All my life I've lived beside the waters that they call the Clyde.
I build the ships and watch them glide down the Broomielaw, sir.
Trudge to work in sleet and rain, labour for another's gain,
Know yer place and don't complain, that's the rich man's law, sir.
When I was young I read with pride how Scotland's heroes fought and died,
Tae keep the nation fortified against the English crown, sir.
Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled by clerics fancy were mislead,
Fought among themselves instead and by it were brought down, sir.
When the Billy Boys are marchin' in the sash their father's wore,
The day they slew the Fenien crew three hundred years before,
The gentry give a smile and lift their glasses to John Bull,
Who keeps us all in poverty with the old Divide and Rule.
The pipes did play the drums did beat on heathered glen and cobbled street.
The sullen tramp of marching feet returned the call to arms, sir.
In the field where cattle grazed, brother's hand at brother raised,
Thus the name of God was praised in the smoke of burning farms, sir.
Would that I might see the day when tyranny is swept away,
And honest work for honest pay becomes the right of all, sir.
As for Gentile so for Jew, Protestant and Catholic too,
Every race and every hue secure within four walls, sir.
And the Billy Boy and Fenien together make a stand
To raise the flag of Worker's Power all across the land.
Declare it in the factory, the office and the school,
We'll put an end to poverty and the old Divide and Rule.

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